A Helping Hand
by SvenSchborsteinheimer
Summary: Draco has a problem of mammoth proportions and, as a most dutiful Head Girl, Hermione decides to lend him a helping hand. AN: This fic contains explicit adult material. If you don't wish to read smut, this story probably isn't for you.


**A Helping Hand**

**Chapter 1**

Hermione stepped gratefully beneath the shower in her bathroom, reveling in the sensations of the warm, inviting spray of the magically scented water. The mingling aromas of lavender and chamomile wafted up her nostrils, the earthy smells calming her frazzled nerves.

She'd had a particularly horrid day. Nothing had seemed to go right for Hogwart's latest Head Girl, beginning with sleeping in after a night of trying unsuccessfully to crack a code for Arithmancy. She'd fallen asleep at her desk and forgotten to set her magically enhanced alarm clock to tickle her awake; resulting in missing the first fifteen minutes of Potions. Snape, his usual greasy self, deducted fifteen points from Gryffindor; one point for every minute she was late.

After Potions, she'd gone to the Great Hall, already angry after an unfortunate encounter in the second-floor corridor with a certain amazing bouncing ferret, only to find her seat booby-trapped to simulate both the smells and sounds of a most unladylike bodily function. A fact she quickly discovered upon sitting down. An embarrassed Hermione was not a pleasant Hermione as Ron and Harry found out, causing the three of them to get into a row before Hermione huffed off to the library for the remainder of lunch.

In Care of Magical Creatures, she'd been a bit rough with her Kreller (a crusty looking animal resembling a cross between a rock and a rat that had the ability to take on the appearance of any mineral), poking it unnecessarily vigorously with the tip of her wand. In a fright, it chose to relieve itself all over Hermione's immaculate notes.

At dinner, she had been out-cast, opting to sit with Lavender and Parvati, subsequently angering both of them when she snippily refused to comment as to whether Harry wore boxers or briefs. Even on a good day, Hermione had little patience with the two nitwits and after a day like hers, she cut loose her frustrations on her unsuspecting classmates. The nerve of the two of them, thinking she would lower herself to get involved in a heated debate of her best friend's _underwear?_ Honestly!

But Hermione's stubborn Gryffindor pride made her determined to stick out the rest of dinner, despite the dirty looks shot her way by Lavender and Parvati. However, when she spilled pumpkin juice all over her robes and newly copied Care of Magical Creatures notes, Hermione finally admitted defeat, deciding to call it a day and turn in early.

Stepping out of the shower, scrubbed clean and slightly pink, her disposition was much improved and she went to her dimly lit room to dress. After a lengthy internal battle, Hermione chose to don a new emerald green silk-and-lace scrap of a nightgown to lounge in. She needed the extra confidence boost of feeling sexy after the day she had. Besides, she was alone. No one would know.

Realizing a nap was in order, she crossed the room to her bed. She could study later. After all, one could hardly expect her to concentrate well in her current mental state, right? Hermione crawled underneath the covers and would have fallen promptly asleep, had she not noticed that someone else had beaten her to her own bed…

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Draco Malfoy had been watching her all day. He knew today was the day; he could feel it in his bones; actual and metaphorical. He'd awoken that morning to an extra fierce morning erection that had persisted the entire day. Try as he might to give himself a hand, so to speak, it had a mind of its own and Draco had taken to giving it a name, referring to it in his head as "The Legendary Hard-On That Just Wouldn't Quit." When he'd pulled on his pants, his erection was still extremely visible. Quickly casting a modified glamour charm to hide his unnaturally engorged penis, he inwardly cursed Hermione Granger as the cause of his troubles.

Hermione. She'd been the star of his adolescent wet dreams for years. Ever since they were thirteen and she'd slapped him in third year, he'd wanted her. All the pureblood-mudblood drivel was complete hogwash; he knew that. He wasn't entirely stupid. He'd stopped believing in nonsense years ago when she'd disproved her supposed inferiority by her academic excellence, exceeding not only Draco, but everyone else in their year.

That, however, didn't stop him from using _her_ belief in his ignorance against her. He liked to get her all riled up. As cliché as it was, she was cute when she was angry. Her bushy brown hair seemed to stand on end with her electric anger, her petite stature emanating waves of displeasure. It surely was a sight to behold when she was being snippy with him, particularly when he outweighed her by about seventy pounds and was at least a foot taller in height. To be sure, she was a little more talented with a wand than he, and he supposed that warranted a little more confidence on her part.

Notions of long, hard sticks redirected his train of thought to his current dilemma. He needed to fix this. And fast. It was starting to hurt. The pronounced bulge between his legs forced him to walk with wider steps to avoid crushing Draco Jr. The males at the Slytherin table had snickered behind their food when Pansy remarked loudly, "Draco, you're walking like you've got a giant stick shoved up your ass!"

Not a bad guess, he'd thought ruefully, his face a flaming red right down to the roots of his platinum blonde hair. He'd suffered through the rest of dinner until he saw the object of his raging lust leave the dining hall. Nobody noticed his somewhat hasty departure moments later…

**Chapter 2**

He hadn't meant to fall asleep. Honest! But as soon as he'd followed his absent-minded wet dream on legs into her room, he'd been bombarded with everything Hermione. Her books, her clothes, her parchment; he couldn't stop himself from invading that last little bit of her privacy that was still intact: her bed. He burrowed into her thick, downy red and gold comforter, inhaling the scent of her: citrus, vanilla and something else indescribably delicious that could only be Hermione herself. With every intention of only closing his eyes for a minute, Draco drifted into the most reassuring sleep of his life.

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Once she touched the alien body in her bed, every muscle in Hermione's body froze. _Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod. What do I do?_ She panicked. In her state of total shock, she did the only thing that seemed logical in her addled brain. She screamed bloody murder.

" Wha –! Sirens! Oh, Merlin, fire! _Fire! _Fire in the building!" The alien bolted upright. In the waning light of her room, Hermione could only just discern the glint off platinum blonde hair. Only one person _she_ knew at Hogwarts had that kind of hair.

"Draco Malfoy, what the _hell_ are you doing in my room, in my BED? If you don't have a damn good answer, I swear by Dumbledore himself, I will hex you into the next millennium!" Hermione was on her feet, spine ramrod straight with hand on hips, in a stern manner that reminded Draco fiercely of Professor McGonagall.

_A very sexy McGonagall_, he amended, taking a glance at her near nude form. How in Hades had she managed to hide that figure? He also had to admire the color scheme of her barely there nightgown. His eyes traveled up her slender frame, from the tips of her cute rounded toes, to the top of her curly, bushy head, his eyes pausing to take in everything in between. His gaze rested longer than was necessary on hips that flared more than was deemed conventionally beautiful, and softly rounded breasts, bringing his raging hard-on back to acute awareness.

_Damn, now is _not _the time_, he thought, stealing a glance at the scowl on Hermione's face that would have made Snape proud. Thank Merlin for glamour charms.

"Well? I'm waiting for an explanation. Why are you in my room, Malfoy?" she demanded impatiently, tapping her foot rapidly in a gesture of extreme annoyance.

"Uh…I'm…lost? I have a terrible sense of direction," Draco replied. Idiot! Why is it, he wondered silently, that every time she's around, one head shuts down while the other perks up in salute. He cursed the inconvenience.

"That's IT! Out! You show up in my bed and expect me to believe you're there because you're _lost? _Get out NOW!" she screeched, somewhat hysterically. "Or I'll take so many points from Slytherin, your house will be feeling its effects at our ten-year reunion!"

Draco, still mesmerized by her less-than-dressed form, made no move to leave, and Hermione stalked to her bed to forcibly pull Draco out herself. Their hands made contact and Draco felt a spark of electricity shoot from where their skin touched. On impulse, he pulled her forward, causing her to lose her balance and tumble directly onto his lap. Like a fish out of water, Hermione struggled and thrashed to get up, many times her fists whacking perilously close to, and almost connecting with, that very problem of Draco's for which she was responsible.

Seeing a golden opportunity, he took advantage of her helplessness and caught both her wrists. Before Hermione could react, he rolled onto his stomach, taking her with him, pinning her body beneath his. Her brain still wasn't registering what on earth was happening, having gotten lost the moment she felt the electricity generated from the simple contact of hand on hand. She hadn't yet regained her composure when Draco lowered his head and his mouth connected with hers.

He pressed his lips against hers hard. He'd been waiting for this moment for too long to take it lightly. His long-denied desire was being realized and he was damned if he was letting her get off with a few light kisses. He nibbled along the seam of her lips, letting his tongue poke around, taking sweeping licks of her mouth. He teased her with lips, teeth and tongue, trying to gain entrance. When she denied him access, Draco pushed his pelvis against her. Glamour charm or no glamour charm, just because she couldn't _see_ his erection didn't mean she couldn't _feel_ it. He grinned inwardly at her gasp when she finally recognized that part of his anatomy pressing against her inner thigh.

While her mouth was open, Draco pushed his tongue into the warm recesses of Hermione's mouth. He explored her mouth, trying to memorize the area between her lips. Lightly, he ran his tongue along the edge of her teeth, silently hoping against hope that she didn't take this opportunity to bite it off. He was no expert in romance, but he was willing to bet his inheritance that dismembered organs would most definitely kill the mood. When his tongue flicked against her own, he groaned into her mouth at the soft wetness, the action seeming to send pulses of heat straight to his groin. Desire coming full force, he plundered her mouth in earnest. His tongue thrust into her mouth in time with the movement of his hips, as his hard cock rocked against her.

Just when Draco assumed he couldn't get any more aroused, his ears picked up on her quiet moans and whimpers. The reaction was instantaneous and he felt his penis give a jolt, getting impossible harder. He transferred Hermione's wrists to one hand, wrapping his fingers around both, trapping her and leaving one hand free to explore. He ran his hand down her body, loving the feeling of the green silk covering her. The tips of his fingers lightly brushed over the soft hills and valleys of her body, lingering slightly on her breast, her softly rounded belly and the curve of her hip. Her sexual inexperience didn't prepare her for his next action, as his hand stole its way between her legs to the front of her knickers. He pushed aside the recently dampened material to find her soaking wet folds. He lightly ran the tip of his index finger in between her outermost nether lips, savoring the wet, hot feel of her.

_Well, well, well, _Draco thought triumphantly. She was just as turned on as he. Never in his wildest imaginings, did he think his seduction could've possibly gone this well. He licked her lips, and thrust his pelvis again as he mentally rubbed his hands together in anticipation. He could hardly wait to see what he could do to her next.

**Chapter 3**

Ron and Harry were going to kill her. Lavender and Parvati were just going to _die. _Ginny…well, Ginny would probably be supportive, Hermione thought, reflecting fondly on the youngest Weasley. _They won't believe this!_ Heck, Hermione barely believed it. She was nearly naked and horizontal, snogging Draco Malfoy of all people, who currently had his hand in her knickers. But the most unforgivable sin of all: she was _enjoying _it.

Her mind was brought back to the present when Draco brushed his thumb against a particularly sensitive area, causing her to cry out. Hermione not so much heard, as felt Draco's quiet chuckles against her lips at her reaction. Once again, he brushed his thumb against her to receive the same reaction. Arching her back, Hermione instinctively thrust her hips up towards the source of the sensation. Draco growled low in the back of his throat, needing her. _Now. _

In an unprecedented move, he quickly removed himself from Hermione's grasp to remove his clothing, as well as the rest of hers. Hermione found herself suddenly naked as the day she was born, and almost roughly thrown back onto her bed. Draco landed next to her moments later in a would-be segue into a full night of his most triumphant shag. He howled in pain when he was greeted instead by a flurry of loud yowls, scratches and suspiciously familiar gingery fur.

And he thought a dismembered organ was a mood-killer.

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_It would have been spontaneous. It would have been exciting. It would have been amazing, _Hermione reflected moments later. _If only I hadn't let Crookshanks spend the night. _In the dim light of her room, neither had noticed the presence of the temperamental, ginger-haired feline. After his most untimely entrance, a shag hardly seemed appropriate. Draco had leapt from the bed as if it were made of nails, and refused to approach, with Crookshanks vigilantly protecting his mistress. Were it not for her own disappointment, Hermione would have laughed at the sight of Draco, sitting naked and cross-legged on the floor, prominent erection still standing, looking every bit the fallen angel whose bones every female would want to jump. The portrait was ruined, however, when she reached his face, to see him glaring petulantly at her cat, bottom lip pushed out in a pout, arms crossed across his chest in a childish manner.

_A really hot chest, with really great pectorals, _Hermione thought, her hormones momentarily back in the driver's seat. To the dismay of her body, her practical nature kicked in, however, as she pulled the covers tightly around her, shielding her naked body from Draco's wandering gaze. The haze of desire was lifting and her brain was starting to function, leaving her with more questions than answers. Up front, matter-of-fact, and moderately domineering, Hermione broke the silence and asked, "Why?"

Draco looked pointedly at his lap, the glamour charm only cast on his pants, and looked back to Hermione. "Why do you think?" His arrogant demeanor was back.

She shook her head, trying to ignore the shot of heat that pulsed through her at the sight of his impressive arousal. "Not 'why sex?' Why _me_? You hate me. God knows I'm around Harry and Ron enough to know the answer to 'why sex?' I mean, you're male; you've got testosterone and reproductive organs. That part's quite clear. Besides, you're an adolescent, as well. It's common knowledge that all pubescent males, and females for that matter, undergo a period of sexual maturity, causing their hormones to fluctuate erratically and sexual activity to become a much more plausible course of action. That's why many medi-witches often encourage masturbation in adolescents as a healthy sexual practice. In fact, according to the June 2000 issue of Magical Medical Journal, St. Mungo's research team conducted a study in which –"

"I don't hate you." Draco interrupted quietly, staring intently at an errant thread of the carpet he was fiddling with. "I never hated you." He raised his head, looking at Hermione with a cautious expression on his face. "I could never hate you," he finished, his veneer of confidence completely shattered.

Her lecture on sexual education forgotten, Hermione could only stare, dumbfounded.

"It's true. I don't…that is to say, I care about you," Draco revealed, stumbling a little over the words, his voice shaking through his confession.

"Ferret," she squeaked, her hands instantly clapping themselves over her mouth. She immediately looked apologetic. That was the best she could come up with at the time, no matter how insulting. She cleared her throat and tried again. "I'm not understanding. Last time I checked, we were enemies."

"Last time I checked, I was in love with you. You were never my enemy," Draco countered somewhat defensively. Once he got started, the words he'd held back for so long came tumbling out. "Don't ask me how this happened because I really couldn't tell you. Given the choice, I wouldn't care about you. It complicates everything, what with the Malfoy reputation. But there's no point in me trying to redirect it towards somebody else. Trust me, I've tried." Still unable to approach the bed for fear Crookshanks would go on the offensive, he continued. "Hermione, I haven't the foggiest as to how you feel about me. I can only hope that it's even a fraction of how much I feel for you. I know I shouldn't expect anything returned, but I need you to believe that the way I treated you is not indicative of my opinion of you. I'll admit to thinking you were beneath me when I discovered you were muggle-born, but that changed almost the instant we spoke. I knew you were different and since then, my attitude of the wizarding world has completely changed. You did that and I'm glad that you did. My public behavior is the same, but that's only for appearances' sake. I love you, Hermione, and it's made me a better person for it."

For the second time that evening, Hermione was speechless. Her mind was too shocked to create a coherent reply, any answer that would make sense. Simply put, she was struck dumb. Hermione continued to sit, not saying a word. She could only stare, brown eyes like saucers, mouth hanging open.

And it was making Draco mental. He silently prayed she would say something soon. Anything. He couldn't stand the silence.

After what felt like an eternity, Draco finally admitted defeat. He'd known it would hurt when she rejected him, he just hadn't realized it would hurt quite this much. What he wouldn't give to take the words back. If he hadn't come clean, she never would have had the opportunity to decline. He could have been satisfied with the possibilities. Heartbroken, he began to gather his clothes and made his way to the door.

"Wait…don't go yet." The words stopped him in his tracks. He heard movement behind him and felt Hermione move up behind him. "Do you really mean it? This isn't a game?"

Draco shook his head, unable to look at her, his throat tight, his heart squeezing painfully in his chest. His eyes flew open in surprise when he felt arms wrap around his waist from behind. Her soft voice echoed in his ear and he hardly dared believe the words and he whirled around to face the mischievous smile of Hermione's face.

"You've waited so patiently for me and we all know that good things come to those who wait. I'm quite adept at detecting glamour charms, you know. Why don't we do something about this problem of yours?" She smiled against his back as she moved her hand down.

Draco, in his glee, barely noticed when Hermione threw Crookshanks out of her room.

**Chapter 4**

Draco hardly dared believe his good fortune. He was in bed with the most delectable creature he'd ever met, locked in a passionate embrace, a definite prelude to sex. He kissed her gently, reverently, savoring the moment of having her accept his attentions, knowing full well how much he cared. It wasn't long before both were in need of more. And neither had clothing hampering their movements. _Excellent,_ Draco thought, as he ran his hands up and down Hermione's body, meanwhile allowing his lips to travel away from hers. He licked a spot behind her ear, making her squirm deliciously beneath him.

Moving from ears, Draco pressed his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling the aroma he'd come to associate as her trademark scent. He could recognize the smell of her anywhere. He attached his lips to her skin and suckled her neck, making sure to leave a mark. In his own not-so-subtle way, he would show everyone at Hogwarts that Hermione was taken. At his attentions, Hermione pushed up against his body, making sure the softest part of her made contact with the hardest of him.

He growled into her ear at the sensations that spiraled from wherever they touched, his cock twitching. His lips, teeth and tongue moved down her body, from her neck, to turn their attention to her breasts. Delaying his progress momentarily, Draco lifted his head to take in the beauty of her chest. Lightly, he brushed his fingertips against the gentle curves in concentric circles, finally coming to rest on top of each nipple. Her whimpers reached his ears and he decided to take pity on her, lowering his mouth to one stiffened peak. Taking the bud into his mouth, he nipped softly, and then proceeded to ease the sharp feeling, rolling his tongue around it. His lips left one breast to transfer to the other, his hand coming up to massage the mound still glistening from the attentions of his mouth. His other hand trailed down her body towards that final destination. Mimicking movements from earlier that evening, he allowed his fingertip to travel from top to bottom of her dripping wet folds. Finding her lubricated enough, Draco pushed his index finger inside.

Hermione couldn't hold back the gasp. Lavender and Parvati talked enough about sex for Hermione to know the basics but she never imagined it could feel like this. This was alien territory to her and perhaps the only thing she didn't know a thing about. It terrified her and excited her at the same time. Unable to anticipate what would happen next, but knowing whatever came, she would welcome with open arms. _Open legs, I suppose, is more fitting,_ Hermione thought. No book told her how it felt, and she could do nothing but trust her instincts, thrusting her hips in time to his thrusting finger.

Draco took his hand and mouth away from her breast and Hermione protested with a moan and an arch of her back. She didn't have much time to regret the loss, however, as Draco moved his lips all the way down her body to stop right above where his hand was most active. He pulled his finger from inside her, only to replace it with his mouth. She'd only ever heard about this kind of sex and the thought had always made her a little queasy. But this, _this_, made her feel anything but queasy.

Imitating the previous ministrations of his finger, Draco ran his tongue along her folds. He lapped up her juices, savoring the taste of her in his mouth. His face pushed against her, his nose occasionally bumping into the bundle of nerves located just above. High-pitched mewling sounds erupted from her throat, his own arousal jerking in acknowledgement. With all the fluids leaking from his cock, he may well have been as wet as she. Any longer and she would push him over the edge. But Draco, being the conscientious lover that he was, stood firm behind the decision that he would not push his way inside her until she got her own first. He knew the extent of her inexperience and she needed to relax. But his own arousal dictated that if he were coming that night, it would be with her wrapped tightly around him. What a dilemma. _I suppose I'll just have to double my efforts,_ Draco thought, only half-joking.

And double his efforts he did. He pushed his tongue between her folds, curling it inside and jabbing against her inner walls. Simultaneously, his index finger came back with a vengeance, thrusting in and out of her, quickly, ruthlessly, not giving her any time to breathe. Hermione felt like her body was on fire. There was a tight, unrelenting heat in the pit of her lower abdomen that grew and spread up through her limbs. Her breathing quickened, until she could only manage speedy, shallow panting. Even she knew she was close. _Close?_ Close to what?

Draco's thumb pushed against that newly discovered bundle of nerves and the tension that had been developing in her body shattered. Hermione came to orgasm with a scream as she flew apart. Still between her legs, Draco tongued off her release from her lower lips and his fingers. Finally, pressing a soft kiss to her, he came back up to face her, his lips glistening from fluids that were most certainly not his saliva. He licked his lips and winked at her lasciviously.

Sobering slightly, Draco, needing that final confirmation, ventured quietly, "Are you sure?"

At Hermione's nod, Draco muttered a contraceptive charm and braced his arms on both sides of her head as he gently, slowly pushed his weeping cock into her. Without warning, Hermione pushed her hips upward, enveloping his entire length at once. Unprepared, Draco lost stability in his stance, falling to cover her body, willing himself not to move until she gave the go-ahead. He schooled himself to ignore the tight feel of her muscles gripping him, caressing his long-suffering erection.

It hurt at first; she would admit that. But once the initial pain of Draco's entrance passed, she grew impatient for him to do something. Anything. If this lying here was all sex was, Hermione was sorely disappointed. She sighed heavily. _Better get out of here, then, _she decided. She attempted to wriggle out from under him, but found herself bombarded by a sudden onslaught of sensation. It seems she'd underestimated the act. Perhaps she would stay a little longer to see what developed.

Hermione's wiggly movements turned into squirms. Squirms quickly progressed to moaning and writhing. Draco took this as a positive signal to proceed. He raised himself back onto his arms and began a slow, steady pace to thrust into her. At her encouragement, he thrust faster, harder, deeper, Hermione's hips coming up to meet his. When she clenched her muscles to clutch his length, he almost lost it completely. His erection was begging for release, but he denied it until she came first.

Draco grabbed Hermione's legs, one at a time, and slung them over each of his shoulders, allowing him to thrust into her at a completely different angle. In this new position, he pushed himself in as deep as he could possibly go, her slick heat wrapping around every single square inch of his penis. The tempo of his thrusts increased, using more force as he plunged into her again and again. Her gasps and moans indicated she was almost there. Thank God, he thought. He didn't know how much more of this he could take. He gripped her thighs and he slammed into her as he finally felt her muscles clenching and unclenching around him, seemingly trying to squeeze his own climax out of him. She was still screaming her orgasm as Draco allowed himself his own release, shooting his thick load into her hot depths as they both reached the heights of otherworldly passion and were pushed over the brink.

As they drifted back down to Earth, Hermione let her legs drop from around Draco's shoulders. Draco maneuvered their bodies to lie front-to-back, in a comfortable spooning position with him still inside her and, ignoring their combined release as it trickled from inside her onto their intertwined legs, the couple fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.

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Hermione woke to the feeling of being trapped. She opened her eyes and saw Draco's arm still wrapped around her waist. She buried her face into her pillow and she smiled to herself. Maybe she didn't love him as much as he loved her, but he'd had six years to think about it and she'd had less than six hours. Stealing a glance at the clock, she saw it was still early. _No matter, _she thought. _Today is Saturday anyway._ She wiggled to dislodge his semi-hard erection from within her fluttering walls, wincing a little at the soreness, as her muscles protested the loss, grasping just a little to keep him inside. Shifting to get more comfortable, Draco's arm tightened around her more possessively and he began to wake up.

"Good morning," he greeted her softly, the sunrise backlighting his face, making him strongly resemble an angel, a halo over his blond hair, the light reflecting in his slate-gray eyes.

"Good morning," she greeted back. _What on Earth?_ Hermione thought. Realization dawned on her as she saw Draco, looking sheepish. She lifted the covers to take a peek as Draco Jr. awoke from his own nap to greet her as well. Angel, indeed.

Hermione raised her face to press a kiss to Draco's mouth as she smiled impishly at the idea forming in her mind. "Draco, did you know in the Head Students' manual, it states clearly that when a fellow student appears to be in dire need, it becomes the Head Girl's duty to provide said student with much-needed assistance?"

"How lucky for Hogwarts to have such a dedicated Head Girl. Draco replied, pressing a kiss back, smiling just as impishly as he understood her intention. "It would appear that I have a persistent problem that requires some much needed assistance."

Ever the diligent Head Girl, Hermione took all her duties very seriously and, lucky for Draco, was always ready to lend a helping hand.

The End


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